Photograph
by Mad for Beyond Birthday
Summary: A collection of stories prompted from Nickelback's Photograph. I own nothing.
1. Photograph

Photograph  
><em>Look at this photograph,<br>Every time I do it makes me laugh..._

"Beyond!"

That sweet voice, shrill but beautiful, reached the black haired teen's ears just as he was exiting his room, a small brown package tied with white yarn in hand. He looked toward the sound, smiling when he saw who it was: a little boy, all in white, being chased by a red head and a blonde. The three children - for that's what they were, even if they tried to deny it - were headed straight for him, the white-clad one shouting his name, "Beyond!"

He reached down when that boy finally reached him, lifting the almost-weightless package out of reach of his pursuers. The two of them skid to a stop and looked up at him, pouting. He smiled and waved them off. "Find someone else to chase."  
>"Aww, but BB!" The blonde, a boy called Mello - though his Letters said Mihael Keehl - said. "He's fun to chase!"<p>

The red head nodded his agreement, smiling at Mello. Beyond bit the inside of his lip to hide his smile - young love was so cute, especially when one was oblivious to it. _Or,_ he amended, noticig how Mello snuck glances at Matt when the young gamer was't looking, _when both were oblivious._"Fun as it might be, Near did not seem to enjoy it. Now off you go," he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I hear we might be getting a new orphan today."

That made their faces light up like the little devils they were and off they went, two forces to be reckoned with, children with the souls of little demons. Beyond loved them anyway, seeing as they treated him like a human and not like a freak, as some did...

"Beyond?" The voice by his let ear startled him for a moment, causing his head to jerk around toward the little boy he still held. Near's arms had managed to find their way around his neck and his face was hidden in his shoulder. "Thank you..."

"You are welcome, little angel." The nick-name he'd given to the other when they had first met melted off his tongue. He felt the young boy's soft hair - white as the pure snow, pure as the child inn his arms - shift against his jaw, silky and smooth. It was something that always made him feel better, as if it was a gift from above. Gift? That reminded him of the package in his hand. He lifted it up to the other's line of sight.

Near blinked when he noticed the plain brown package in BB's hand, wondering what could be inside. "What's that?"

The curious tone in the albino's voice, combined with the tilt of his head, made BB think of a tiny kitten. It was a sweet image, one that made him wnat to launch into a barrage of "how cutes!" He wouldn't, though: it wasn't in his character, wasn't his nature.

"It is a present for you." The package was lifted further, exchanged from a large pale hand to a smaller one. Near removed his other arm from around the black-haired man's neck, counting on Beyond to keep him from falling. His fingers struggled for a moment over the simple knot, making him frown and look at BB for a bit of help. Quick as a flash the teen had a knife out and sliced through the thin yarn, replacing the blade in his long-sleeved shirt when its task was complete. The only thing that showed it had ever been out was the quick flash of silver that had accompanied it and the clean-cut string. He turned his head away from Near for a moment while the other opened his gift, making sure the knife wasn't going to cut him. He heard the paper slip from the other's grasp and his soft gasp, as well as his cry of, "I love it!"

His eyes returned to the little boy, who was currently winding a hand-knit white scarf around his neck. It had taken Beyond days to make and it showed that his skill wasn't very good (some stitches were dropped, edges frayed), but just knowing Near was willing to over-look it all, that the perfect boy loved his imperect git, was enough to make him happy...

He didn't register the sound of footsteps coming toward them, or the giggles that followed. All he had as warning was a cry from Near and a flash as the camera went off. He turned to see L, the L, standing just a few feet away from them, Polaroid camera in hand, a picture at his feet. He knelt down and lifted the picture up, waving it just a bit to make it clear, smiling. "Look at this photograph. Such a cute picture."

BB barely noticed Near blushing. He barely noticed his own flush. All he recognized was that he was running after L, Near in his arms, the scarf whipping out behind them, yelling for the other teen to give up the picture. L was running away but he, too, was laughing. And, BB realized dimly, so was Near.

He was definitely getting that photograph back.

_Look at this photograph,  
>Everytime I do it makes me laugh,<br>Everytime I do it makes me..._

**End Notes:  
>I'm writing this for my Near, whom I lost two years ago come February seventh. Even though he's gone, I'll always remember him. I hope other people will, too.<br>I'm hoping to continue this, using lines from Nickelback's "Photograph" as a prompt. I do not own these lyrics, nor do I own Death Note. I'm writing this for someone I love, not just for pleasure. I hope you enjoy.**


	2. Eyes

Eyes

_How did our eyes get so red?  
>And what the hell is on Joey's head?<em>

"Why are your eyes red?"

It was a question he'd expected the other to pose long before now, so it was a bit surprising to hear it escape now. Beyond looked over at the white-clad boy who was lying beside him, his eyes focused on some action figure in his hands. Why was he asking this now? He could've asked at any other time...hearing that question at this moment made it seem unimportant. "Why would you like to know?"

Near's gray eyes flickered over toward Beyond, looking at him out of the corner of his sight. The black haired boy was staring up at the stars, those beautiful red eyes focused on the glittering galaxies above. "Because."

Because. It wasn't much of an answer but BB knew it was probably all he would get. He let his eyelids fall over the eyes he hated, the ones that Near liked, and decided to try to formulate his answer. "...that is not a reason."

"It's enough of one, though." Near rolled over onto his side and looked at him with an intense gaze, one a child of ten shouldn't have had. "Now tell me."

How can I tell you when it does not matter? I do not want you to know. If there is anything right in the world you will drop this now. "I do not know. Genetics?"

"You know genetics don't work like that. Please tell me how they got to be like that." How they got to be that beautiful scarlet color, like fresh blood, or like strawberry jam. Yes, the second one worked better: it was something his boyfriend liked. It was something that could work with him. "I want to know."

And now Near wouldn't stop until Beyond told him. He knew because of that determined voice, that shift in tone that spoke of things unknown. The other only spoke like that when he wanted to know something badly. "You wish to know? I will tell you: I was born with them. I do not know how it occurred: mother had black eyes and father had gray. I should have been born with the black eyes, and yet I was not. I was born with red."

Red. Hated red eyes. He despised the sight of his eyes so much he rarely even looked in mirrors anymore. "I do not know how it happened. I just know it did. And that is that."

Silence met his answer, except for the occassional chirp of crickets. Summer was going to end soon, bringing Fall and with it, Winter. Things were soon going to die, creatures that wouldn't live to see another Spring. And it was still quiet.

Did my answer surprise you that much? Or are you trying to see if I am lying? He didn't want to open his eyes to see, didn't want to see the other's skeptical look, didn't want to not be believed anymore. Everytime he tried to say that his eyes had always been this way, no one believed him. He hated that-

His thoughts were cut off when he felt something falling onto his face. Swiftly Beyond sat up, shaking his head, his eyes opening in surprise. Little whisps of green - grass clippings? - fell around him, some of them landing on his shirt. His hand reached up to mess through his hair, dislodging a few more pieces. "What was that for?"

Near tilted his head, wiping them against each other to get rid of the few pieces of grass that clung to his skin. His action figure was down by his side and he shrugged slightly, leaning forward so that his forehead was pressed to Beyond's chest. It was a comfortable place to be, a place where he could hear his crush's heartbeat. "I thought you could use it." He answered honestly. After all, the situation had been getting too complex, too tiring. The two of them needed something to distract them, and the only thing he had to work with was grass. So that was what he'd used. "I could use it, too."

Everything could use a chance to laugh. Near wouldn't mind the questions that Matt and Mello would pose, most likely wondering why Beyond had grass in his hair (or why Near did, seeing as some of the clips were sticking to him), or why they had been outside in the first place. He just wanted a chance to be like this. To have one moment together.

To ask why his eyes were red.

**End Notes:**

**Another chapter down. I do not own Nickelback's Photograph or Death Note. And my apologies for the mis-spellings in the first chapter.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	3. Windows

_And this is where I grew up,_

_I think the present owner fixed it up._

_I never knew we ever went without,_

_The second floor was hard for sneaking out!_

The window to his room was always difficult to open. He was forever telling himself he needed to speak to Roger about it. It wasn't like the other would know what he used it for – who expected someone to sneak out of a second-floor bedroom through the window? Especially one that didn't have a tree near it; it was fool-hardy.

That was why it was perfect for his use. Nimble fingers grabbed the lower half of the object and with a little coaxing got it all the way up. The boy smiled as he hoisted himself over the sill feet-first, his front facing the inside of the room. His fingers kept a tight grip as his feet searched for the top sill of the window below him; even when they found it he still didn't let go. Experience had taught him that letting go of his only means of balance, trusting his feet to a rain-soaked sill, was never a good idea and there was plenty of rain in Winchester, England. Even now dark clouds hid the sky from view. What a pity: the person he was going to see had always loved stars and he had hoped they could see them tonight. Oh, well.

'_There's always the cathedral…'_ He comforted himself. _'Not as romantic, but at least it's nice and warm inside. And dry.'_

Being dry sounded like a grand thing: despite his lover's joy at the sudden downpours of rain, the boy climbing down had no use for it. Rain was good for nothing in his opinion, though he would never voice it. His raven-haired companion adored the rain; there was nothing he liked more than sneaking out during a storm to dance in the rain and mud, twirling like a child. Even if it meant facing a cold the next day, Beyond never cared. The only thing he really cared about was L. And Near. Yes, his black haired beau cared about him, and Near was glad because BB was so closed off otherwise.

That thought made a wry smile appear as he finally managed to start climbing down the side of the house. He was imagining Beyond, with his shock of dark hair above a pale face, those neatly defined features and fathomless red eyes, as a book with a lock – a diary, perhaps. That would match him very well: locked up tight until the right key came along. A laugh burst out of him before he silenced it, eyes wide as he looked about, side to side and up and down, in case someone had heard. It wouldn't do well to be caught now, not right at the moment his feet touched the ground! That thought spurred his feet and hands to get him down and when his bare feet did touch the ground he started to run (not his strong suit). The feeling of wet grass sticking to his toes was uncomfortable, the squelching sound annoying.

'_Why does he like the rain so much?'_

On the grounds of Wammy's, hidden by a wall of trees, there is a graveyard and a cathedral. The graves are sparse, only a few are well tended, and they make somewhat of a path for people to walk to so that they can get to the dark oak doors of the church. It wasn't a large church, by most standards, but it had a tower that cleared well over the line of trees that hid it from view. That made it perfect for a certain Wammy's boy who was currently seated in the bell room, his dark hair lifting in the rain scented wind that blew through the opened windows. It was refreshing to the man who stayed trapped in his room, who couldn't stand the thought of still air. It was the reason he adored rainstorms - they moved the air in ways nothing else could. His beloved didn't understand that feeling. Near thrived on things being stagnant, loved when life just stopped. Beyond couldn't stand that. It deprived him of time with his lover but he couldn't go without movement!

_'I wish you could understand. I wish you knew I can't stay still forever. I've slowed down to make you comfortable but it's killing me inside...' _A sigh escaped him as another breath of wind hit his face, relaxing him. It made him think about his lover, who was coming to meet him. Hopefully. Already the other was so late, but he wasn't the type to rush him. After all, it took a while for him to get there, so he shouldn't rush the other. Things took time, after all...But he wanted him there now, not later. He wanted to be there near him, wanted him in his arms. He wanted what he couldn't have. But he'd get it soon.

Soon, he wouldn't go without.

**BB: Okay, this one will be continued LATER ON. I'm so sorry this is late. As usual, BB owns NOTHING. P.S. Please go vote in the new poll in my profile for which one of these fics I should do next!**


End file.
